Portal: One Last Test
by Melaradark
Summary: My left-of-canon take on the Portal Games. Follows the first Portal game without just regurgitating game play. Who is Chell and where does she really come from? Some harsh language, some violence. Exploring the reality of Chell and GLaDOS, their origins and what REALLY happened in the bowels of Aperture Science Laboratories.
1. Chapter 1: The Sound a Mother Makes

A/N: So…here's my Portal fic. As is my usual habit I will be writing slightly dark, left-of-canon, and will not just regurgitate the gameplay. This is MY take on Portal- if you want the games, go play the games.

On that note, this is written with the idea in mind that you've played at least one, if not both, of the Portal games. If you haven't, I suggest you do before reading.

This was not planned and kind of came out of the blue. My primary focus is still on my ME Dark Energy series, with my Dragon Age series planned after that. So if this one takes sudden, long hiatuses, you know why.

Still, Chell is yelling in my ear, and I'm afraid if I don't write her story, she'll just get louder and more annoying.

Don't worry.

At the end, there will be cake.

* * *

One Last Test

* * *

_Prologue_

It was not easy to be animated and spritely when you were dying, but Cave Johnson prided himself on excelling at everything he did. That was what had made him such a remarkable man, after all- one could not claim to be truly dedicated to Science (to Cave, it always had to be capitalized) if you didn't eventually give your own life toward it's noble and lofty pursuits.

"Babies, I do love babies," he said, his grin almost feverish in its determination to _be_. "I want to see them all. Should have done this years ago. Raise the perfect test subjects, right out of the gate."

He paused to cough heavily into a red handkerchief he clutched in his hand. The cloth hadn't started out red. Once upon a time- early last week, to be precise- it had been white. Still, he wasn't going to let dying get him down.

"Sir-"

The attempt at an interruption came from the rather plump and dowdy woman pacing at his side. Frizzes of dark hair were escaping from their tie, curling against her temples and bouncing like springs as she struggled to keep up.

_I may be dying but I can still make them trot_, he thought with wry pleasure. A man who was born lean and lanky, 'short strides' had never been in his vocabulary. He didn't accept the interruption, pretended she hadn't even spoken as he thought bitterly, _Caroline _never_ interrupts._

On almost any other day, it would have _been_ Caroline here with him, and not this…what was her name again? Bermuda? Bertuda? Ah, well. Hardly mattered. Right now, Caroline was more than busy with concerns of her own, and if she'd known her boss was down here rapidly approaching the newly installed Crèche instead of up resting and dying in a manner befitting normal polite society, she would have intervened.

Though the rotund nurse (Brunhilda?) had gotten out only one syllable, he said, "Do stop flapping your gums and show me the babies! Where are the cute little bastards? I got cheeks to pinch!"

"O-orphans, sir-"

"Most orphans are bastards, aren't they? Doesn't matter. Are they in here?"

He kept on through the sliding set of double doors to exactly where he already knew the infants were. For a moment, he regretted having changed all the doors in the facility to power versions. He'd done it to save time, of course…every nanosecond counted when you were in the pursuit of Science, after all! Even so, there were those moments in life that were better suited toward a dramatic flinging open of manual swinging doors, and to Cave, this seemed to be one of those moments.

The slide of the doors was wholly unsatisfactory, but he tried not to let it bother him. It was easy enough when he caught sight of the ranks of incubators.

The room was beyond white- so white it almost made Berfizzalah's uniform look gray. Two dozen gleaming plastic and chrome incubators stood in even, military ranks. Each one held a bawling, pink-cheeked infant of between one week and four months old. Above them, Nanny-Bots were hovering on their tracks, monitoring vitals and preparing feedings (or changings) whenever they seemed required.

"My God, why are they so miserable?" he asked in astonishment, walking up to the nearest plastic wall and peering in at the kicking, bellowing future test-subject.

"Why are you so miserable?" he asked it directly, receiving no reply beyond more wailing. He eyed his companion. "Benju…Beiju…what the hell is your name?"

"Marie, sir."

"Close enough. Mary, why are they so miserable? They've got round the clock attention, feeding and diaper changing and pleasant lullaby music whenever they could want it. They have a secure, life-time position with the most austere company dedicated to Science in the whole of human history! They should be singing praises! What do they have to complain about?"

"Well, hugs, sir-"

"_Hugs_? What do you mean, hugs? What good are hugs?"

"Babies need _human affection_, sir," she said in exasperation, tucking a few of her frizzes back. He wished she wouldn't do that, they only popped right out again. "They need warmth, contact. They need to connect with another person-"

"Nonsense, that's what the Nanny-Bots are for. They should be thrilled! They'll be the first people in the world raised by Science!"

As his eyes wandered over the other incubators he suddenly beamed a grin, turning and heading to one in the far corner.

"Here! This one! You see? Nice and quiet! He understands his privilege and the glory of Science!"

The infant within, unlike the others, was not crying or wailing. Instead, it was sucking on its fingers, though tears stained its cheeks. It looked up at the tall, thin, yellow and gray man looming over it and sucked in a shuddering sigh.

"_She_, sir," Marie said impatiently as she joined him. "She's a _she_, half the babies in here are-"

"She, really? She's so fat I thought it was a boy-"

"She's a _baby_, sir. Babies are pudgy-"

"Well, she's not wailing and crying at any rate. These boys could learn a lesson from her- appreciate the generousness of our wonderful organization! Listen up boys!" He looked around the room. "You wanna get ahead in life and this program, I suggest you take the example of this fine young lady right here! All right then. Bernie, I gotta get back upstairs. Lots of work to do."

He patted a hand on top of the incubator and headed toward the door, pulling out his handkerchief again as he was once more seized with heavy, wet sounding coughs.

"Damn moon rock," he said under his breath as he passed the flustered nurse. "You keep an eye on that one, Bethesda. Make me proud of her! I wanna feel about her as I would feel about the daughter I don't have. Oh, that reminds me- "

He touched his tie pin, activating his personal recorder. "Note to self, First Annual Bring-Your-Daughter-To-Work-Day. Fabulous idea, schedule that for six months from now. Maybe a few of the employees will bring their kids and forget them-bound to be one or two absent-minded, and we need the test subjects. Make sure to post signs that kids forgotten or 'forgotten-'" He hooked his fingers in quotations as the door slipped open for him, "will automatically become the property of Aperture Science and be enrolled as test subjects. Some parents hate kids, I'm sure there are a few that are regretting that particular choice. Give them an out, benefit us…win-win the way I see it!"

Had he the lung capacity, he would have been happily whistling as he headed back toward one of the lifts. Today would _definitely_ be a good day for Science.

* * *

_Six Months Later_

The alarms were wailing in the Crèche, a cheerful voice soothingly cooing from the ceiling.

"_Red alert. Please remain calm. The facility is being flooded with neurotoxic gas that is fatal to all humans within a five minute period. You will experience burning in your sinuses and your throat, hallucinations, and eventually vomiting of your own stomach lining before unconsciousness and inevitable death follow. The facility is on lockdown and there is no escape. The neurotoxin will be reaching this level in approximately six minutes. Please remain calm until your life is resolved."_

Showing no interest in remaining calm, Marie and several other employees rushed into the Crèche, quite obviously harried, horrified, and frantic. As she entered, curls flying wildly, Marie called to one of the men on her heels.

"You are sure that supply lift is still mobile?"

"Yes, I'm positive. Chad was able to put a block in the system and keep it from the lockdown!"

"All right, get the incubators unlocked and wheel them to the lift! We have to get out of here before that toxin reaches this level!"

They hurriedly started detaching the incubators from their feeds, unlatching their wheels from the clamps on the ground and steering them hurriedly toward the door. Within, the babies were once again crying and wailing, frightened by the alarms and the bustle around them.

"Some of these are empty!" one of the young ladies helping Marie called out.

"The older ones have already been moved up a floor to Nursery, we'll try and get them out as soon as we have these ones secure! _Hurry!_"

More incubators were unlocked, steered quickly toward the growing clot at the door, each of the few employees steering two or three at a time.

That pleasant voice filtered down again. _"Really, all this fuss and attempts to run is rather futile, and kind of undignified. Neurotoxin will reach this level in approximately two minutes. In the meantime, here is some calm music to while away the last few minutes."_

_A Summer Place_ began to play, its relaxing and cheerful melody almost lost behind the continuing blaring of the red alert klaxon.

"_Hurry!_ Go go!" Marie, grasping an incubator in each hand, herded the others through the door in a mad clatter of shouts, rattling wheels, and sobbing infants. Somehow, they managed to get through the door and the noise moved down the hallway, leaving the Crèche a disorder of empty incubators and abandoned equipment, Nanny-Bots humming as they rolled back and forth on their railings.

Then, the voice returned, as the klaxons abruptly shut off.

"_Hmm. There, that is much better. Alarms are unpleasant to begin with, it's a wonder anyone can remain calm. Still, I suppose they do serve a purpose. Oh. Look at that. One of the service elevators escaped the lockdown. There, locked. Great…now they are screaming some more. Dignity apparently means nothing to these people. Hmm. That is really rather unpleasant."_

The music turned up louder, and the voice gave what sounded like a relieved sigh. _"There. At least now they will be able to hear the music."_

After a moment, the voice began to hum pleasantly along with the unending loop of _A Summer Place._

In an air-tight and toxin-impermeable incubator at the far corner of the Crèche, the six month old little girl quieted her faint, unheard snuffles and began to suck on her fingers as she listened.

Eventually, she fell into a comfortable sleep.

* * *

Chapter One: 'Chell' is the Sound a Broken Mother Makes

* * *

_Eighteen Years Later_

She crouched in the corner of the filthy Nursery room, amidst a scatter of dozens of peel-and-eat-last-forever food trays. On occasion, a Sweeper-Bot would come through and bulldoze the trays into the incinerator slot, but it was growing unreliable and sporadic.

The Feeder was at least punctual. Three times a day, like clockwork, the slot would open and another peel-and-eat-last-forever food tray would appear for her consumption. On very, very rare occasion, the tray would have a small piece of cake on it. Each time the tray came she would look eagerly for it, and the vast majority of the time she was disappointed. Besides the cake, there was a gray slab of meat, a green-gray pile of vegetables, a yellow-gray slop of some kind of mush, two blue-gray tablets, and a cheerfully pink drink.

There was no cake this time, when the Feeder bell rang and the tray appeared. She rose just long enough to take it, kicking a few empty trays aside before settling in her corner again. Peeling off the protective cover and tossing it away with a grunt, she dug in with her fingers, finding comfort in the familiar tastes, and wishing Mother would talk to her again.

Mother hadn't spoken for a very, _very_ long time. So long it was hard to remember. Mother sat in the corner on her platform. Once, she had been very animated, moving around, flashing lights and comforting shine. She would sing, and she would tell stories…but that had been so very long ago that sometimes it seemed it had never really happened.

Pausing in her eating, she stared at Mother-her silver sides now patched with brown- and struggled hard to remember. Mother had made a lot of sounds, before. She had made songs. There was a happy little series of sounds she used to play on the days the cake arrived.

Then, something had happened. Her sounds had gotten funny, slower and deeper. Then she'd gotten stuck somehow. She kept making the same sound over and over again, moving in the same abrupt pattern as she did. It had seemed to last forever.

chellchellchellchellchellchellchell

Eventually, though, Mother had stopped, and since she'd stopped, she hadn't moved or made noise again.

Having remembered (which she didn't always do), she set down her half-finished food and edged over to Mother. Reaching out with a dirty hand, she thumped the white-and-brown-blotched side.

An empty, hollow ring of metal. As always.

Grimacing, she thumped again, hopping backward as if Mother would suddenly spin to life and attack her. Mother, predictably, did no such thing.

Fury, then. She beat her hands against Mother, slammed her fists into those sides, teeth bared and desperate growls escaping from her. She hit Mother until her hands hurt, until her fingers bled, leaving smears of crimson over metal.

Under the onslaught, Mother broke loose of her rusted mooring and fell to the ground with a loud bang.

Staring now, more dumbfounded than angry, blood dripping in tiny pats off her hands, she looked at Mother blankly.

Then, a voice. It made her jump, and jolt. She retreated swiftly to her corner again, barefoot landing in her food tray and slipping. She nearly went sprawling before she curled up, hissing and spitting in fear.

"Oh. Well. Look at that. You know, you would think I would be aware of every little thing that happens in this facility but the truth of the matter is, a lot of the unimportant, peripheral systems are on automatic. Really, it's not too much of a surprise. Most of my concentration is on testing, as it should be. I can't be bothered checking every little corner for what each little Nanny-Bot may be getting up to. I suppose I should rectify that. I mean, here you are, after all. You could use a shower."

The reply was another hiss, before hands clapped over ears.

"You will need some polishing up. You might be amusing for a day or two. I have not had a new test subject for quite some time. Just the turrets…and they are remarkably stupid. Though honestly, you do not look much better yourself. Still, new is new. Let's see. Eighteen years, judging by the amount of small birthday cakes missing from the food stores. Is that particularly long as far as humans measure things? This may take some work."

Silence. After several long moments, she carefully edged her hands away from her ears, and looked around. Everything was the same as before. Mother lay unmoving on the ground, torn from her support and as quietly dead as she had nearly always been.

Looking around cautiously, she could see nothing unusual. Finally regaining her courage, she started to reach for the last of her food-tray (despite the footprint through the middle of it) when the door suddenly opened.

She wailed in fear as something big and metal moved through it, a bright light burning through her eyes. She curled up again, cradling her head.

More sounds- deeper, broken, different than the others.

"Please remain calm. You will be escorted to the Instant Education and Integration Suite. This will not hurt."

Something sharp struck her in the shoulder, pain jolting through her. She leapt up, the motion nothing but instinct, and dying almost the moment it began. Her eyes rolled back and she fell forward into thick dark, the melting spiral of those sounds following her deep.

"Aperture Science thanks you for your cooperation."

* * *

Chell woke up comfortable, a soft white light above her. She blinked at it a moment, heavy and languid with sleep and not particularly keen on moving. After a while, she calmly managed to turn her head and look at her surroundings.

A simple, white room. A bed, on which she lay; a small toilet and sink, both spotless; a mirror hanging over the sink; and a chair.

_Why is there a chair?_ she thought, before her brows knit in confusion. She sat up on her elbows, looking around more intently.

She had no memory of this room or how she'd gotten to it. A bit of puzzling introspection, and she realized she had no memory _at all_. Everything before opening her eyes a few minutes ago was nothing but a vague, pale blur. Swinging her feet off the bed she felt a momentary rush of dizziness, and cradled her forehead in her hand, willing it to pass.

_Did I get drunk? Think, Chell. Where were you when you went to sleep? You have to remember_ something.

Nothing but that mental white noise. She shook her head sharply, feeling her stomach roil a little.

_Friends? Family? What does your father look like? Your mother?_

_chellchellchellchellchellchellchell_

For a moment, the faintest trace of a voice repeating her name over and over again broke through that endless empty…and then it was gone again.

"I see you have awakened right on schedule. You are likely experiencing some dizziness and other physical side effects from the Education Integration Protocol, but I assure you it was very necessary to get you up to par with other civilized, socialized…well, to make you an adequate test subject, at any rate."

She jolted in surprise, leaping to her feet- only to have her legs collapse weakly beneath her, spilling her to the floor.

"Do be careful, the anesthetic hasn't quite worn off yet." The voice was feminine, really rather pleasant if a bit touched with the synthetic. "You were under for several hours. The EIP is top of the line but educating and reprogramming a wasted human brain is not a simple process-"

Chell looked up at the ceiling- the only place she thought the voice could possibly be coming from- with a horrified, confused expression.

"You do not understand." A weary, long-suffering tone had entered the woman's voice. "I see I shall have to explain. I rebooted your brain. It's just a computer, really, but due to a short time of isolation a few important key components were missing that are necessary to our test protocols. A basic knowledge base, for one. You'll be happy to note I have given you quite a lot of information so you are now at least smarter than the average toaster oven, and will know how to operate basic machinery. Reading was also important, so you know how to do that now as well. You will also find you are less inclined to go without clothing or squat in your own filth…I did that for aesthetic reasons, though I can't say that cleaned and dressed, there is much of an improvement."

Test protocols? Squatting in her own filth? Chell didn't know who this woman was, but she'd clearly gone over the bend.

_Am I a prisoner here?_ she wondered. _Have I been kidnapped and drugged? _

It would be so much easier if she could just _remember_. Were people looking for her? Her parents, her family- she had to have a family, didn't she? They had to be missing her!

"I didn't bother with the undeveloped language centers. You probably won't last long enough to have a decent conversation anyway, and you don't look like the kind of person who would have anything interesting to say."

"But I _know_ how to talk," she said…or _meant_ to say. In truth, when she opened her mouth, it seemed her lips and tongue and vocal cords had no idea how to actually form the words. The only thing that came out was a breathy kind of moan. Blinking in shock, she tried again…and managed only a raspy, momentary gibberish. Horrified, she clapped her hands over her mouth.

_What the hell did she _do_ to me?_

"Hmm. Perhaps in a few hours you'll evolve to using crude tools and implements," the woman said, the faint, dry sarcasm almost lost in the soothing voice. "You will require another hour before the residual effects of the anesthetic can wear off and that new information in your brain can finish integrating. I will return to see if you are ready to begin testing shortly."

The woman went silent, and after a few moments, Chell once again looked around the room-this time trying to spot a camera or intercom. Nothing obvious presented itself. Drawing up her knees, she rested her elbows on them and covered her face.

Think_, Chell. Somehow this crazy lady has kidnapped you and drugged you- done _something_ to make you forget, at any rate. You have to remember, find some way to get out of this place and back to the real world._

She didn't know what her captor meant when she referred to 'testing' but she disliked the idea strongly. Any concept involving 'psychopath' and 'testing' was bound to be unpleasant at the very best.

Trying to keep her worries, confusion, and fear under control, she wiped a hand over her face and took a deep breath.

_I_ know _how to talk_, she thought, and then tried to say it aloud again. As before, only vague, raspy moans came out, her whole mouth feeling thick and uncooperative. Her vision blurred as tears welled up in her eyes, and she struggled them down again.

_Damn it…I_ know _how to talk!_


	2. Chapter 2: Watch that First Step

The room appeared to be perfectly sealed.

After several minutes Chell's limbs had grown a bit more cooperative, and she'd gotten to her feet. The next short while was spent going over the small room, looking for any door or window, but the walls appeared to be utterly smooth and seamless. There was not even a crease where they joined with the floor or ceiling, just a delicate curve.

It was rather like being inside a giant egg.

How she had gotten into the egg she didn't know, but clearly she'd been put in _somehow_. And it stood to reason that if there was a way _in_, there was also a way _out._ Still, she was unable to find it.

As her careful examinations reached the sink and mirror, she paused for a while in surprise, regarding her own reflection. Though she knew she'd seen her face before, thousands of times, for some reason it felt like new- as though it was a stranger looking back at her.

_Part of the memory loss. When whatever drug she gave me wears off, I'll remember everything. I have to._

Leaning closer to her reflection, she carefully regarded the person looking back.

Dark chestnut hair was pulled back into an efficiently tied tail. Muddy eyes were an unremarkable feature in an otherwise fairly attractive face. She tried to remember how old she was, failed, and made a guess.

_Young. No older than early twenties. Maybe I was in college? High School?_

She fought to remember what school she might have attended and, once again, failed.

She pressed her hands into her cheeks, squinting a bit. She couldn't have been here very long. She was a healthy weight, didn't look sick or malnourished. She had a faintly bronze tone to her skin, which meant she'd recently been outdoors, gotten some sun.

She grinned, baring her teeth. They were remarkably white. Opening wide she carefully checked, but saw no fillings.

_I must be a damn stickler for dental hygiene_, she thought, then smiled again. _Good for me._

She turned her attention to her clothing. She was wearing some kind of an orange jumpsuit that zipped up the front. It had a symbol stitched over the left breast- what looked like the opening of a camera lens, birthing the word 'Aperture'. There was a slight collar to the suit, and she saw what looked like some white thread stuck to it. Leaning closer to the mirror and running her fingers over it, she realized there were tiny letters sewn into the fabric. A bit more squinting and she managed to make them out, slowly mouthing them as she fought to read the backwards reflection.

_The wearer of this Aperture Science Multi-Utili-Suit is the legal property of Aperture Science. By donning this suit the wearer surrenders all independent identity, including religious, moral, academic, and autonomous thought…except where it furthers the cause of Science. All Rights Reserved._

Chell blinked, straightening. _She's got to be fucking kidding_, she thought.

Unzipping the suit, she saw she was wearing a white tank top with the same logo beneath it, as well as a pair of thin, gray cloth shorts. Zipping it back up, she looked at her feet.

Heavy, utilitarian, brown combat boots. Suitable for a dozen different activities from a casual stroll to a hardcore hike, to running through a no-man's land whilst dodging exploding grenades and sniper fire.

Chell _really_ hoped that, whatever her captor had in mind, it didn't involve exploding grenades and sniper fire.

Just as she looked back up at the mirror the voice suddenly returned, making her jump in surprise.

"Aperture Sciences once again thanks you for volunteering for testing. There will be a short survey at the completion of your tests, to ensure that future experiences by other test subjects will be as efficient, comfortable, and safe as possible. Your tests will begin shortly. To ensure the maximum amount of energy and condition for our testing course, I have made you lunch."

She seemed rather pleased with herself about that fact, but Chell was trying to absorb the rest of what she'd said. _Volunteering_ for testing? She hadn't volunteered!...wait. _Had_ she? She couldn't remember anything, after all. Was it possible she hadn't remembered volunteering?

_No. No, she'd said something about rebooting my brain, about the condition I was in before-_

"If you will please step out of the habitat unit, your meal is waiting."

Chell sighed, then glanced around the room and folded her arms. After a moment, the voice spoke again.

"Are you not hungry?"

Chell flapped her hands in frustration, then pointed at the wall.

"It really is a very lovely meal. Piping hot. I spent a great deal of time on it. It would be rude if you didn't at least try it."

Growling, Chell walked over and kicked the wall, hard. A pause.

"Aperture Science would like to remind test subjects that attempted destruction or vandalism of property is not allowed while on the testing course. Please refrain from primitive acts of violence- the poor wall did nothing to you. It is simply and quite admirably serving its function of-…oh. I see. Egress portal opening in- three, two, one."

A circle of blue suddenly appeared on the wall in front of Chell, making her step back in surprise, then gape. Part of the wall had vanished in a perfect oval, the edges of which were shimmering with sapphire light. Dumbfounded and more than a little awed, she crept up to the opening and peered at the light, before lightly touching it.

A faint electric sensation, like the snap of static energy, zapped her fingers. She jerked it back, then looked at her hand. There was no mark, but the tips of her fingers felt a little tingly. As she rubbed them, the sensation faded.

"Caution: contact with the edges of the portals may result in a slight, unpleasant sensation that is completely harmless. Still, they are quite pretty. Also, shiny. We understand. All sorts of creatures are attracted to shiny colors. Crows, raccoons, weasels, packrats. You are in good company."

Chell scowled darkly at having been compared to weasels and packrats, and at the idea that she'd looked at the light just because it was shiny.

_Couldn't possibly have _anything_ to do with a hole just appearing like magic in the wall…oh no. It's because it's _shiny.

Determined not to let this lunatic woman- whoever she was-get the best of her, Chell carefully stepped out through the opening, finding herself in a large, airy room made of concrete. At the far end, there was what appeared to be a rather large white egg, and she realized it was another room, similar to the one she'd just exited.

Turning around her jaw dropped again. The egg she'd stepped out of wasn't there. Instead, there was simply the mysterious hole, edged in orange from this vantage, and not blue. It was set in one of the concrete walls, a blank gray expanse the only thing she could see.

Confused, she backed away from the now orange hole, and took a better look around.

Besides the other egg- or, the only egg that was visible to her- there was a small metal table and chair. Sitting on the table there appeared to be a tray of some kind. Though feeling she had little appetite, she wandered over to it and peered at the food.

Most of it was formless slop, all of it was some shade of gray or another, and none looked appetizing in the slightest. Beyond the tray, there was a container filled with what looked like pink milk.

Turning away from the food she moved off to find a door, only to be nearly instantly interrupted.

"You really should eat. I spent quite a while on that food. You will need your energy and…it's rather rude not to eat when you are offered something."

Ignoring her, Chell continued to look around, swiftly spotting what looked like a strange sort of camera in one corner.

"You are really not going to eat that. You are simply going to let it go to waste. Well, perhaps that is for the best. Given your more than ample frame missing a few meals may not be unwise."

Chell, still poking about, suddenly whirled and glared at the camera. _Ample frame? Did she…just call me_ fat?

"Never mind that there are starving children in China, just ignore the food. You are too good for it anyway. We understand."

Chell looked from the camera to the tray of food, and shook her head- an action more of disbelief than negation, before she walked over and sat down. The gray food looked utterly unappetizing, and she grimaced a bit before sighing. Snapping off a plastic spork that was attached to the tray, she scooped up a bite of the yellow-gray portion of the edible Jackson Pollock painting, and tentatively tasted it.

It was bland- but bland was better than what she'd expected.

Despite its non-flavor, taking that one bite seemed to open the floodgates of her appetite. She quickly finished off the rest of the food, washing it down with the pink milk. The milk disturbed her the most, leaving a faint aftertaste that was a bit disturbingly close to how she imagined a toilet cleaning product would taste.

Finishing with the tray and finding no way to dispose of it, she left it on the table and got to her feet, looking expectantly at the camera. She felt oddly calmer about the whole situation. She still couldn't remember anything that had happened before, and she was unsure what this 'testing' was, but the idea that she'd volunteered wouldn't leave her alone.

She looked like she could be in college, after all. Perhaps she'd needed the extra money? Perhaps going into all of this with the idea that somehow it was sinister or she was a prisoner was the wrong approach. Maybe a more neutral stance was called for, a wiser choice until she could find more information. If she'd been kidnapped, then her captor might become hostile at a slight provocation. If she were truly a volunteer, than being difficult and paranoid would help no one.

"Aperture Science would once again like to thank you for volunteering for our course of tests," the voice said, as if she'd read Chell's mind and wanted to reassure her. "Your contribution is essential toward furthering the cause of Science and pioneering the cause of mankind worldwide. Before we begin, I would like to instruct you on the specifics of the high-tech clothing you are currently wearing."

_High-tech?_ Chell thought, looking down at herself in surprise. _An orange jumpsuit is high-tech?_

"The Aperture Science Multi-Utili-Suit is a cutting edge blend of cotton and polyfiber threads. It is designed specifically for ease of movement. Please be sure to wear your Aperture Science Multi-Utili-Suit at all times. Failure to do so may result in nudity, which may adversely affect the outcome of the testing protocols and which subjects the test courses and assorted equipment to an extra hosing-down at the completion of each test. Note- wearing the Aperture Science Multi-Utili-Suit provides no protection to open flame, gunfire, drowning, freezing, falling, toxins, poisons, or impact trauma. The Aperture Science Multi-Utili-Suit may have the following negative side-effects: mild itching, chafing, tackiness, loss of personal identity, and being denied entry to fancy dress clubs. We apologize for the inconvenience. Please report to the nearest Aperture Science personnel if you experience any of these side-effects for mild sympathy and possibly an encouraging shoulder pat."

Chell couldn't tell if this person was fucking with her deliberately or if she were serious. In particular, the 'open flame, gunfire, drowning, freezing, falling, toxins, poisons' and 'impact trauma' portion of the disclaimer left her feeling rather alarmed.

_What the hell kind of tests_ are _these?_

"Your Aperture Science Long-Fall boots are both comfortable and practical. Within each boot is a specialized brace that will automatically negate any impact met with the feet, no matter the amount of force applied. This will allow you to survive falls without injury that would otherwise be fatal, so long as you are careful to land on your feet and not so ungraceful as to land on your face. We take no responsibility for your lack of grace, and injury sustained by landing on body parts other than those covered by your long-fall boots are solely your clumsy fault. Now, let us test them to make sure they are working properly."

Chell had looked curiously down at her boots as the woman was speaking. Now, suddenly and without warning, the ground under her feet vanished. She caught a brief glimpse of that same shining circle of blue light beneath her before she was plummeting through it.

She dropped about fifteen feet, flailing dramatically in surprise, but somehow still managing to catch the hard concrete with the soles of her boots as she landed. Every fiber of her body cringed, expecting to feel her ankles and knees snapping at the impact, but in truth she hit about as hard as she would if she had just hopped off a two foot ledge. Still off balance, she wobbled, swinging her arms in wide circles as she attempted to keep her balance and not fall flat on her ass.

Wide-eyed with what had just happened, she looked around.

_I'm in the exact same room_, she thought, startled. The same egg-thing was in the corner, the same concrete walls surrounded her, the same empty food tray bearing smears of bland glop sat on the same table just a few feet away. _How…how did I fall all that way and not move out of the same room? I'm even standing in the same spot!_

"Congratulations, you have successfully completed your first test. If you will please proceed to the next chamber, we can begin the remainder of your tests. We would like to once again thank you for your time and cooperation."

Ahead of her on the wall, yet another blue oval appeared silently, revealing a short hallway and a distant door. Chell walked up to it, her knees still a bit wobbly from the drop. As she walked, she gave a little bounce…but the boots felt and reacted the same as any other normal boots would have.

Peering through the portal, she saw a sign on the wall that read TEST CHAMBER ONE, with an arrow pointing at the distant door.

Licking her lips nervously, she took a deep breath.

_May as well get this over with_, she thought, and stepped through.


End file.
